


End of the War

by Myrmidon



Category: Call of Duty
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-29
Updated: 2016-07-29
Packaged: 2018-07-27 12:45:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7618576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Myrmidon/pseuds/Myrmidon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I hope you will like it! ^_^</p>
    </blockquote>





	End of the War

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you will like it! ^_^

The house was empty as he entered. Every single room was covered by darkness. He couldn't expect anything else.

“Who could even be at home?” John Price thought.

He hasn't been alone in this flat for years.

Makarov died.

He took a vengeance, but satisfaction didn't fill him up.

Only the phone ring broke through the silence, but Price didn't pick it up, he let it ring.

He walked into the bedroom - everything was the same way they left with Soap. Soap's T-shirt was still laying on the bed, the closet was opened.

Pictures were laying in a row on the desk - many pictures of him and Soap. Beside the ones of Soap, Price, Sandman, and Ghost, the next photograph was of Ghost wrapping an arm around Roach.

“None of them is alive…” it came into his mind all of sudden as he was watching them.

He took the diary of Soap out of the pocket in his jacket and stroked the cover with his fingers before putting it down on the desk, but as he placed it onto the table, a picture suddenly slipped out of the worn pages. It was covered with dried blood, but still - the  two smiling guys could be seen.

Holding the photo in his hand, the man sat on the floor, leaning his back against the bed and lit a cigar. The heavy smoke hurt his eyes, that were becoming more and more tearful, when a muggy summer day came into his mind...

 

_Outside, the sun slowly rose, and the sunshine broke through the curtains when the birds’ singing welcomed the new day._

_It was summer._

_Price was laying on the bed, leaning against the wall - his naked body was covered with a thin blanket messily thrown over his privates - and he was reading a book in the half-light._

_Soap was sitting next to him, writing his diary, but after a while he put it down and rested his head on top of the Price’s abdomen, then drifted off._

_Price finished the book and gently ran his fingers through Soap's hair._

“ _Hm?” Soap looked up at him._

“ _Is that me?” Price asked, pointing at the drawing in the diary._

“ _Aye.”_

“ _Are you making drawings of your captain in secret?” Price laughed._

_Soap closed the diary and sat up, pressing a kiss on the lips of the other man._

“ _Does my_ _C_ _aptain have problem with it_ _?”_ _He asked with a smile._

 _"_ _Not at all..._ _"_ _Price replied, but Soap prevented him from talking as he showered his partner in kisses and slowly pushed him down on the bed._

_They were laying on the bed, exhausted, Soap was on his stomach, an arm was wrapping around Price's waist. Price gently caressed his sunburned skin, which was bathing in gold light by the infiltrating sunshine._

_Price was looking at his beloved one, as he was sleeping peacefully. He loved to watch him sleeping. In these moments he didn't have to worry about anything. Soap's presence, his quiet breathing filled him with calmness._

_He noticed Soap's diary on the floor. An edge of a picture was sticking out of the pages. Price leaned down and pulled it out. That one was taken when Soap moved in, a few days earlier._

_They were together, hugging each other, smiling happily..._

The cigar burnt out in his hand and the floor was covered by ash, when the phone ring woke him up from the recollection. He stood up and ignored the ringing, as he walked to the table. Taking a deep breath, he picked the diary up and slid the picture in.

Makarov is dead.

He got the revenge, it was for Soap.

This was the end of his war.


End file.
